


Selfish Beasts

by ThePrincePeach



Category: Five Nights at Freddy's
Genre: Biting, Blood Kink, Blood and Injury, Breathplay, Choking, Creampie, Dirty Talk, Gay Sex, Hate Sex, Light Sadism, M/M, Masochism, Multiple Orgasms, Obsession, Rough Kissing, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Scratching, Self-Hatred, Shameless Smut, Short One Shot, Smut, Stupid british twink cannot convince me otherwise, William is a bottom fuck you, less than 1k words
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-24
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:53:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25481956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThePrincePeach/pseuds/ThePrincePeach
Summary: William prompts Henry, hate-fueled fucking ensues.
Relationships: William Afton | Dave Miller & Henry Emily, William Afton | Dave Miller/Henry Emily
Comments: 6
Kudos: 172





	Selfish Beasts

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, this is just, really short. I have no reason or excuse for this other than wanting to write some Wilry hatefucking smut. Sorry it's short and yall wanted more. I'm trying to work on posting more.

“Fuck me like you hate me.” 

“I do hate you.” 

“Prove it.” 

Winding his fingers around the man’s throat, squeezing as William let out a strangled gasp. Henry squeezed harder and harder. It would have felt so much better if William’s eyes, though wide and hazy, weren’t rolling up. He wanted it. He always wanted it. Henry’s cock was buried deep in William, pumping in and out at a hateful pace, making the man below him jolt with each thrust. Feeling the wood of the workbench against his back, his hips rocking against Henry’s to selfishly take every little inch of Henry he possibly could. William was never satisfied with anything else when Henry was being offered. He was seeing stars, in both a wonderful and horrible sense. 

Henry could feel William’s nails digging into his hands, clawing at his wrists and up his arms with ragged red lines soon following to haunt the flesh. Gasping for breath that Henry wouldn’t allow, gripping tighter and tighter and wanted to keep going until William stopped struggling. His red face was turning a lovely purple the harder Henry squeezed. William’s back arched and dropped back down after being tense for a moment or two. Beads of pink drool snuck down his chin as his slowly swelling tongue rolled past his bruised lips. 

Those lips, Henry stared for a brief thought before leaning down and smashing his against William’s, taking up the last bit of air William could possibly reach for. The man’s nails dug into Henry’s shoulders and back as he bit down on his lip, blood dribbling out from the kiss once they parted. Those lips, that William would so coyly part and stick at that pretty pink tongue out for, Henry disgusted as he tapped lit cigarettes onto it. Henry found it odd how much that pain got the man off, believing it took out the purpose of ever trying to hurt him sometimes. Yet, seeing his shirt ripped open, seeing those bites and bruises littering over his neck and shoulders and chest – filled Henry with an odd amount of lust-fueled pride. 

He had filled William up already, twice really. It was slick and sticky and hot as Henry pounded into William, strings of white sticking to their thighs, globs of cum dribbling out and onto the table under them and some leaking onto the floor. Spurts of it over William’s pale thighs and decorating over finger-shaped bruises and past cigarette burns. Before Henry could let his mind wander, he pulled his grip away from William’s throat and the man, in response, coughed and gasped and nearly wheezed with forced air. Before long, William had sat up high enough to sink his teeth into the crook of Henry’s neck and shoulder – causing the man to cry out in shock before pain. His long legs wrapped shakily around Henry’s waist to keep him close. 

William was a selfish man. He wanted Henry all to himself, no one else could have him. No matter how much William marked him, or how much he marked William; bruises would fade and bites would heal. And the process would begin all over again. During off time, William would trace those marks with his fingertips, occasionally pressing into them just to feel again. He’d burn his cigarettes out on the tender flesh of his arms or thighs, listen to the sizzle, grit his teeth and blush up dark. He wanted to feel. He wanted Henry. It was selfish. 

Henry was selfish, too. 

Sitting back in his chair with his head in his hands, his dripping cock still hanging between his legs – Henry hated himself, he hated his own selfishness, he hated William, he hated everything. He peeked up at the other man who sat on the edge of the workbench, a mirror in hand, carefully inspecting the bruises and bites littered over his neck and face. Cum and blood and saliva dribbled down his chin, droplets on his chest. He hummed in an odd type of satisfaction at such a sight and flashed a charming smile to Henry as he used his thumb to wipe the mess from under his lip, only to lick it off a moment after. 

“It was almost like you were trying to kill me, you know,” William commented before looking back in the mirror, “I was about to pass out,” Henry said nothing. William continued, “You animal of a man. Do it harder next time.” He chuckled. Standing, awkwardly, he shuffled off to the restroom with his hand on his lower back. Before he left, Henry spoke up. 

“I’ll squeeze your throat harder next time,” It was nearly a whisper, but William paused anyway to hear it, Henry looked up at him with a hollow appearance in his eyes, “I’ll squeeze until I hear it snapping under my grip.” 

William smiled. 

"So, this again on Tuesday? Same time, then?"


End file.
